


We Made a Deal

by shesaidnomaam



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC Extended Universe, Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesaidnomaam/pseuds/shesaidnomaam
Summary: The reader has just inherited a crime syndicate from her uncle. Unfortunately, that’s left many of Gotham’s other criminals eager to swarm her territory. Harley Quinn is doing her “own thing now,” but she could be enticed to lend a hand, and a mallet.
Relationships: Harleen Quinzel/Reader
Kudos: 15





	We Made a Deal

“I heard some big bad crime dad wanted to see me,” she announced as soon as she was in the doorway. Harley Quinn, Gotham’s wildest rogue, strolled into your large office with a shit-eating grin. When she saw you at the desk, her tongue darted out to flick the corner of her lips. She made no efforts to hide the way she looked you up and down. Clearly, you weren’t what Harley had expected. She didn’t seem bothered by that fact.

“You’re not an old man with a greasy tie,” she said. Needing no invitation to sit down, she plopped herself in one of the chairs across from you.

“Thank you for noticing,” you replied.

“You’re the one that sent goons to my apartment?”

“Were they too imposing? I sent my smallest men,” you said with a shrug. All of your inherited employees were intimidating. Your uncle liked them that way.

“I could have taken ‘em,” Harley replied with a matter-of-fact tone. “What are you gonna blame me for?” she asked.

You quirked a brow, “Why do you assume I asked you here to place blame?”

“It’s why I’m invited to most places. You did this, you did that, she was my wife! Stuff like that.”

With a small amused grin, you nodded as if you understood. You did, to some extent. Her reputation preceded her, and it was typically negative. However, the enemy of your enemy could be your friend. You hoped so; the vultures had been circling since your uncle died. Though you’d inherited his entire empire and its resources, rival crime lords loved to pounce during transitions of power. An unexpected death was a prime opportunity for other greaseballs to strike.

You relaxed a bit in your chair, but you kept your sense of authority. You did have a crime empire to run. “I’ve heard that you’re operating on your own now,” you said.

“I’m doing my own thing, sometimes I team up with a crew. Depends on how I feel.” She looked at you, head cocked to the side. “Why? You hoping I’ll be one of your thugs? I don’t do anyone else’s bidding anymore.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting Miss Quinn,” you started, but her snort interrupted you. Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“That just sounds ridiculous.”

Her response puzzled you, but you continued. “I am new to this, leading anyone anyway. Not necessarily to crime or even organizing crime, I’ve been doing that for years. Since I was a teen, really.”

“Nice.”

“Thank you. I see a lot of flaws in the way my uncle ran this organization and I want to clean house.” You took a deep breath and looked at the security camera feed in the corner of your desk. You didn’t want to be heard by anyone - you were still figuring out who you could trust. “I may need help should I start racking up enemies in my own house.”

With a coy look in her eyes, Harley slid down further into the chair and swung her legs to the side so she could swing them over the arm. “I didn’t hear anything about money,” she sung.

“You would be paid handsomely.”

“Why is it handsomely? I’ve always wondered that. Is it a man thing? I’ve never known a man to spend the right amount of money for anything.”

“I’ll pay you beautifully then?” You suggested.

“How beautifully?”

“Like a work of art in a beachside glass museum,” you conjured.

Harley grinned, “That does sound like a lot of beauty. So what would I be doing? Paint me a picture.”

You watched as she looked at the wall. She was trying to figure you out through your decor. You’d heard she’d been a shrink. It was slightly difficult to picture her sitting up straight when she was so contorted in the chair.

“Should I find that an employee of mine is not working in my best interest, I would call you, we would meet, and I’d tell you who to take care of. Then, presumably, you’d uphold your end of the deal, and take care of them.”

“You’re asking me to be a hitwoman?”

“Oh no, that’s boring. I’m asking you to be an artist. I want you to create a tapestry that can be put on display as a warning for all of those that seek to cross me. I would get rid of all of them and start over if I could, but I can’t. So I can at least keep the decent and loyal ones and throw out the trash.”

Harley appeared as though she was considering your proposal. She tilted her head from side to side to a tune you didn’t hear. “That your boyfriend?” She asked, catching you off guard. Harley pointed to some photos on your counter. “Leather coat guy.”

“No, that’s a James Dean impersonator, the older woman there, my aunt, wanted to take a picture with him.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Harley asked casually.

“No,” you replied simply.

“Girlfriend?”

“No,” you repeated.

“Gender-neutral special friend?”

“I’m single, why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. I like knowing things about the people I work with.”

“Does that mean you’re going to take my offer?”

Harley shook her head. “I haven’t decided yet,” she confessed. You waited for her to speak again, you felt that there was a follow-up comment brewing. When she said nothing, you spoke instead.

“Is there anything I can say to make you lean in my favor?” You asked, curious as to what else Harley might want. Everyone could be bought, and everyone had a vice. If money alone wasn’t enough, she’d need to be direct. Money was usually enough - it made everything else possible.

“No,” Harley replied, “It’s something I gotta feel, but, if you’ve got a landlord in your employ, I could use a new apartment. My current guy doesn’t make much of a fuss, but he always doesn’t fix the black mold in my bathroom. And he won’t let me take fire to it.”

“I can definitely find you a mold-free place to live.”

“And you’ll foot the bill? If I’m going to be on call I gotta be well-rested.”

It would make you feel like a sugar mama, but if Harley Quinn could help you build a livelihood, it was worth it. You needed a viper, someone who was willing to strike out in any direction you chose. Harley was considered wild and unpredictable at the best of times, and frankly, you were surprised that she hadn’t immediately turned you down.

“If that’s what it takes, but I’d expect you to be on time then.”

“Who said I’m not on time?” She asked with a frown.

“If I tell you, do we have a deal?”

“You mean, you tell me, plus the money, plus the fancy digs?”

“Now they’re fancy? I thought, 'no mold’ was the criteria here?”

Harley made the noise of a ticking clock. She wasn’t dignifying your statement with a comment. Clearly, you were being taken advantage of; she’d figured out that you needed her more than she needed you. It was always going to be a possibility, you thought. Chaotic behavior didn’t indicate a lack of intelligence. You hadn’t intended on underestimating Harley because of that, but apparently, you had.

“It will be as fancy as you are effective,” you replied.

Harley’s head turned in your direction and she winked at you. “Fair enough. When do I start?”

“Well, I’d say no, but I guess I need to find you a place to live first. Hate to have you poorly rested.”

The young woman’s eyes sparkled, “Find me a place with a taco truck on the street.”

Harley swung her legs from the side of the chair and clunked them onto your desk. You shooed her shoes from the marble top. It was custom-made. She obliged, choosing instead to park herself on the corner of your desk. She looked at your computer screen; she seemed to think her residency was your immediate priority.

You were beginning to think you’d made a mistake in calling for her aid. Flashes of potential futures played in your head, and they all involved Harley appearing with a request. If only contracts were the norm for those situations.

“I need to see what landlords we’re associated with. I don’t know all of the contacts I’ve inherited. I’m still going through the address book.”

“Hmm,” Harley considered aloud, “ok then. Well…” She took a fine-tipped marker pen from your desk. With one hand she skillfully uncapped the pen, with the other, she grabbed your hand and turned it over. On your palm, she wrote what you assumed was her phone number.

When she was done, she placed the cap on the pen, and rather than put it back, she placed the pen inside her shirt with a large smile. She dared you to challenge her, but you merely pulled your phone from your desk. “I will let you know what I arrange.”

Harley slid off the desk with an excited hop. “I have a pet,” she admitted.

“What kind?”

“Dog…like.”

You closed your eyes, “Tell me you don’t have a wolf.”

“I do not have a wolf.”

You opened one eye to look at her, “Coyote?”

“Spotted hyena.”

“How the fuck did you get one of those?”

“His name is Bruce and he was at the pound,” Harley announced. For some reason, she chose to salute you before she left the room.

You’d never believed yourself to be someone capable of self-sabotage, but as you sat in silence, you felt the need to reevaluate your choices. Because enlisting the aid of Harley Quinn was certainly a choice.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted as a part of my Pilot Week 'event' on my Tumblr. This series as well as seven other series were created based on reader surveys! For more information, check out my Tumblr!


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